Monster
by Escarghost
Summary: Arthur's been keeping secrets from Alfred. Alfred's birthday coming up, and Arthur plans to tell him then. But will this secret end there relationship?


_**A/N: Well, here's my attempt at angst. This was my gift for scandinavian-pleather over on tumblr, for a gift exchange from waaay back to like, last summer. One of their prompts was a Sweet Devil!au, so here's that! I've never written angst before (hell, my poor heart can barely handle reading it), so I'm not sure how good this is. But this was the perfect opportunity to practise! I'm rather proud of it, actually...**_

 _ **Anyway, enjoy~!**_

* * *

 _Pain. Lots of pain. My head was throbbing. Had I hit my head? No, it felt more like a headache than an injury. Whatever. I just wanted to lie here and sleep with my boyfriend…_

 _…who wasn't there._

 _Damn._

 _I groaned and turned over. What could he be doing that was more important than cuddling with me?_

 _There had been a thump when I woke up. Maybe he fell out of the bed? It definitely wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes he tosses and turns so much he ends up throwing himself off._

 _And, knowing him, he probably got up to get a snack. The boy was always eating. At least I knew he'd be back soon._

 _In the meantime, I wanted to know just what happened the night before. It was very unusual for me to get headaches. Perhaps I did hit my head on something._

"A-Arthur…?"

 _I almost smiled at the voice, but stopped. Something was wrong. He sounded…cautious. Scared. But why?_

 _I sat up, wincing as I did so. Maybe I shouldn't have moved so fast. I brought a hand up to hold my head, fingers brushing against one of my horns._

 _…Wait, what?_

 _Alfred screamed, and memories of the past week came rushing back to me._

* * *

 **June 30**

"Artie~!"

I rolled my eyes as that blasted nickname was called. Why did he still insist on calling me that? I can't count how many times I've told him not to call me "Artie". But I suppose, after a few years, I've grown quite fond of the name… Not that I'd tell him that.

"What is it, love?" I called, not moving from my spot.

I heard a small huff and the sound of footsteps, before a blond head poked out of the dining room. There was a pout on his lips, but the mirth in his eyes showed he wasn't really upset. "You always make _me_ come to _you_ , don't you? It's not fair! You're dating me, not you stupid books!"

I set my novel down over my stomach and looked up at my boyfriend, smirking. "I may have to rethink that decision. At least the books don't give me stupid nicknames."

"Artie!"

I chuckled, standing and walking over to my lover. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. "You know I'm just joking, Alfred," I said as we pulled away. Alfred pulled me closer, still pouting.

"Damn right you are. A book can't make you feel as good in bed as I do!"

"Well…"

"You're so mean to me!" Alfred exclaimed. I laughed, jumping out of his embrace, and bolted for couch. Before I could make it, however, I found myself pinned to the floor by a heavy body.

"Gah! Alfred, get your fat arse off of me!"

"Nope! Not until you take back what you said!" I struggled weakly, before finally giving up.

"Fine, whatever, I take it back! Now get _off!_ " Alfred finally sat up, bringing me with him. We both stood and finished the trip to the couch. "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Alfred's eyes lit up. "Right! I totally almost forgot!" A wide grin spread across his face. "So, you know my 21st birthday is comin' up, yeah? I know what I want now!"

A wave of nervousness washed over me. How _could_ I forget? I've been worrying over this day for months now. This was the year I would finally tell him… Something I should've done a long time ago.

I pushed my anxiety to the back of my mind, instead rolling my eyes. "Well, it's about damn time. I've been waiting forever for you to tell me," I said.

Alfred shoved me lightly. "Shush. It was a hard decision, okay?" I grinned up at him. "Anyway, I totally know now! You and I…." He paused, probably for dramatic effect."….Are gonna go drinking!"

My face fell slightly. Oh, hell. This was _not_ a good idea. I had never done very well under the influence. I never remembered any of it, but I've seen enough pictures and heard enough gossip to know it was probably better that way. Also, I couldn't stand the taste of American beer

But I couldn't say that.

Instead, I opted for rolling my eyes. "Really? It took you that long to decide _that?_ "

Alfred crossed his arms. "Come on, Artie! Pleeeaaase? I've always wanted to try it!" He begged. I didn't budge. I really didn't want him to see me drunk. "Please, Arthur? Just for one night?"

That bastard. He even pulled out the puppy eyes!

 _… Well, if it's just for the night, then…_

"…Fine." Alfred pumped his fist with a loud whoop. "But only this one time! Don't think I'll do it again!"

Alfred kissed me lovingly, and I couldn't help but smile into it. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Thanks, babe! I love you sooo much!"

"I love you too, Alfred."

I watched my lover as he jumped up and practically skipped back into the kitchen. I picked my book back up, but didn't even bother trying to read it. I wouldn't have gotten anywhere. I frowned at the pages.

 _Will you still think that once you know the truth?_

* * *

 **July 4**

The bar was filled to the brim with people. Drunks stumbled about the small shop, bumping into seeminlgy everything they could and making complete fools of themselves. But what could you expect on Independence Day?

It was a wonder we even found a place to sit. I muttered to Alfred about how I already regretted my decision, but he just flashed his million-dollar smile and told me to "get the stick out of my ass" and "have some fun". Bastard.

Alfred pounded his fist on the tabletop. "Yo, bartender! Can we get some beers over here? Thanks!"

"Alfred!" I hissed. "Don't be rude! At least have _some_ manners!"

Alfred just waved me off. "Pssh. It's the 4th of July! They don't expect people to be _nice_."

"Whatever you say…" I muttered. Our drinks came, and and I watched amusedly as Alfred tried to chug the whole glass and failed miserably. He spit most of it back into his glass with a pained sound. I chuckled into my own glass, taking a smaller, more reasonable sip. "Slow down, love. The takes a bit of getting used to. Wouldn't want you to choke~"

Alfred wiped his mouth on his sleeve, glaring at me. "Shut up, you dirty old man," he coughed. I smirked at him.

We talked for a while about nothing in particular, and Alfred eventually got used to the taste of beer. It wasn't until he ordered his second one that he noticed my almost untouched glass. "Hey, aren't you gonna drink that?"

I looked down at it. I honearly was trying to pretend it wasn't there, and hoped that Alfred wouldn't realize it. So much for that plan. I frowned at my lover.

"I only agreed to come with you," I said matter-of-factly. " I never said I was going to drink anything."

Alfred looked appalled. "But babe! The whole point in going to a bar is to drink!" He exclaimed. " _And_ , it's the freaking Fourth of July! A time for celebration! You can't celebrate without booze!"

"You know, Alfred, the day is only important to Americans."

We both turned at the voice. Francis stood behind us, smiling widely, followed by Gilbert and Antonio.

Francis winked at me. "But he does have a point, _cher_. Today is a special day, _non_?"

Alfred stood and pulled the Frenchman into a hug. "Francis! You came!"

Francis pulled back, kissing him on the cheeks. "But of course! You didn't think big brother would miss out on you becoming a man!"

"Watch it, frog," I growled, pulling him off my boyfriend. He chuckled and raised his hands in defense.

"Oh, _Angleterre_ , pleasant as ever I see? You know I was only joking~"

I sighed and letting him go. I knew that. I just really wasn't in the mood for any of his "jokes".

We sat down at the bar while Alfred got drinks for Antonio and Gilbert. I stared at my glass, swirling the contents absentmindedly.

"Something is bothering you, Arthur"

I glanced up at Francis briefly. There was a small smile on his face, but he was being serious. I looked back down at the table. "Stunning deduction, Sherlock. You know me too well."

He smiled and leaned forward. "You haven't told him yet; have you?"

I scowled, not looking up.

"You know, _mon ami_ , you can't keep it a secret forever. It's not fair to him, or to you."

"I know, I just…" I clenched my fist around the glass. "What if– what if he doesn't…"

Francis hummed, see what I was getting at. "What if he does not love you anymore?" he asked. I didn't answer. There was a sigh, and I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders. I couldn't find it in me to shake it off. "Listen. Alfred's a good man. He's a good judge of character; obviously, he is in love with you, even though you are a grumpy old man that is cruel to everyone he meets." I glared at him.

"Are you going anywhere with this? Or are you just here to insult me?"

Francis chuckled. "My apologies. I was just trying to lighten the mood a little. My point, Arthur, is that most humans focus on the negative traits of others. They hang on to the bad things in each other, and look past the good in them. But Alfred… He is different. He will grab on to the good qualities with an iron fist, and it will take a lot to change his mind. This will not stop him from loving you."

I turned to my longtime friend. "You know, for a frog, you sure know how to give a damned piece of advice." It was as close to a "thank you" as he would get, and he knew that.

"Well, they do not call me "Rosier" for nothing, dear Eyebrows." He grinned haughtily, throwing me a wink. I rolled my eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

Our little "moment" was ruined by a little bird landing on Francis' head and a sharp voice from the other side of the bar.

"Hey, Francy-pants! Why don'tcha stop hitting' on Alfie's boy-toy and join us in a drinking game!"

Francis sighed, shaking his head. "I swear, these two never have enough…" He stood from the old barstool, stretching. "Try not to worry about it too much, _oui_? Just relax for the night. It is Alfred's birthday! Be happy! Save the worrying for another day." He flashed me a quick, encouraging smile before heading off to join the others.

I stayed in my seat, letting Francis' words sink in. _He's right. Alfred's an understanding man. That's why I fell in love with him. I'm getting myself worked up over nothing._ Thoroughly cheered up, I downed my beer (no matter how foul it tasted. American beer was the worst) and made my way across the bar.

 _I'll enjoy tonight with my wonderful boyfriend, give him the best birthday ever, and I'll tell him in the morning._

…Oh. Right. _That's_ what happened.

We went out, got drunk, and I reverted back to my demon form.

…And now I was stuck with a pounding headache and an unconscious boyfriend. If I could still call him that.

I sighed heavily, running a hand down my face. I definitely had not planned on telling him like this. How could I have not seen this coming? My mind completely shut down when I got drunk, much to Francis' amusement; of course my magic would, too. _Stupid, stupid, stupid…!_

I got out of bed and knealt next to Alfred. I lightly slapped his face a few times, shouted in his ear. My thin tail twitched in agitation. Nothing. He was out cold.

 _This is absolutely wonderful._

Wrapping one arm around his back and the other under his knees, I carried the blond bridal-style to the living room, where I sat him on the couch. Despite my inhuman strength, the boy wasn't the lightest thing on Earth. I rolled my shoulders to try to loosen them up. A black leathery wing flared out with the motion the tip of it brushing the ceiling. I guess this was another reason I didn't walk around in my natural form. These apartments were ridiculously small.

A few more slaps and a bucket of water later, Alfred finally woke up. In retrospect, I probably could've used magic to bring him to consciousness; it would've saved me a lot of time, and our couch. But that's not _nearly_ as fun.

"Alfred…?" I asked tentatively. I slowly reached a hand out to touch him.

As soon as he saw me, Alfred scrambled to the other side of the couch. His eyes were wide as saucers, and he was shaking slightly. He opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out. The American sat there for a minute, two, mouthing words I could not here, before his voice finally worked.

"Who… Who the hell are you?" He asked, slowly, shakily.

I sunk down to where Alfred previously was. The corners of my lips turned down into a frown. Did I look that different…?

"Alfred, it's me. Arthur."

Alfred shook his head. "No, you're not!" He shouted. "You're not my Artie! He didn't have blood red hair, or horns, or, or _wings_ , for fuck's sake! What did you do to him?!"

Oh boy. This really isn't how I wanted that to go. I hoped he would be a little understanding, or at least quieter. Hoped he would recognise me. Hoped he wouldn't deny me being me.

Fat lot of luck that did.

"Nothing, Alfred, I _am_ Arthur! Don't you see the resemblance?" I shouted back. My head was pounding. I was getting very agitated very quickly.

"Bullshit! How do I not know you're not just some doppelganger, or putting on a disguise? How am I supposed to know you're really Arthur?"

He seemed to be getting bolder. With every shout, Alfred stopped shaking, standing up, fists clenched tight. Surely he wasn't going to try and _fight_ me? I was obviously not of this world. What chance could he possibly have?

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Trying to dull this ever-growing headache. I couldn't focus on my magic otherwise.

But would this even work? He already thought I was disguising myself to look vaguely like…well, myself. Wouldn't he think I was playing another trick on him?

 _I guess it's worth a shot…_

Alfred was still waiting for an answer. He was breathing heavily, eyes clouded with fear and anger. His eyes followed my hand as it was raised, higher, above my head, turningslowlyl at the wrist. They followed my lips as they whispered an indecipherable chant. Watched through the glow as I started to change. Dark wings shrunk down to nothingness on my back. Clawed hands shortened to a delicate rounded end. What once was blood red turned to a hay-coloered blond. And then it was over.

"Do you believe me now, Alfred?" I asked, my voice full of hope.

The blow to my jaw told me my first assumption was correct.

I brought a hand to my face. It hadn't hurt, not physically; no, it hurt somewhere else, somewhere no one could see.

"You…" Alfred wasn't looking at me anymore. His bright blue eyes were pointed at the ground, and he was shaking again. Was he…crying? "You're sick, you know that? Messing with a guy's head like that." He finally brought his head back up–yes, he was on the verge of tears–to glare down at me. He took a step closer. I didn't move. "You take on the form of my lover—my Arthur—and try to convince me you're him. Arthur is no _monster_. He's a 25-year-old British guy who loves to drink tea and read and secretly feeds stray cats! He's an aspiring writer who spends whole nights staring at a screen, and who sometimes forgets to eat! _He is not a monster!_ "

Alfred swung at me again, aiming for my temple. I grabbed hold of his fist and pulled him forward. His momentum brought crashing to the floor. I pinned him, straddling his waist and holding his hands above his head. I had had _enough_ of his denial and his fucking accusations!

I leaned in close to him, until our noses almost brushed. Red hair draped over Alfred's forehead, and I could feel the pointed teeth against my tongue. It seemed my magic was slipping. I needed to control myself.

"Alfred," I growled. My eyes were closed so I could calm myself, but the scent of Alfred's fear was thick. "I _need_ you to believe me! Please!"

"Fuck you!"

The boy underneath me struggled to be free. He pushed and pulled and wriggled, doing anything he could to free his hands, to flip us so he was on top. But I wouldn't budge.

Suddenly, he stopped. Confusion was written across the American's face. He just…stared at me. I was little unnerved, until I saw drop of water fall onto his tear-streaked face. Where…?

 _…When did I start crying?_

Alfred actually looked slightly concerned under the confusion and anger. He tensed when I buried my face into his neck, hot tears wetting his shirt.

"Uh…What are you doing?"

There were a lot of conflicting emotions going on inside his head right then, I could tell. He wanted to be angry, but here I was, crying on top of him. He couldn't help but worry.

"Are you…okay?" He asked.

The question made me chuckle. I smiled into his shirt. "Oh Alfred… You always had such a hero complex."

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. "What-"

"Alfred Frederick Jones, born July 4, 1994 in Charlottesville, Virginia. Born to Catherine and Frederick Jones. You were an only child until the age of five, when a young Matthew came to live with you. Your father had had an affair with another woman, who later died of cancer. Matthew was picked on a lot, so you made it your job to protect him. Even called yourself Captain America." I smiled at that. It was cute. "From then on, you swore to protect everyone you could," I sniffed. "Even grumpy brits that criticize you and lie to you."

We lied there for a while, until Alfred broke the silence. "What's his last name?"

I furrowed my brows. "Pardon?"

"Matthew," he stated, as if it were obvious. "What's last name? And when's his birthday?"

Oh, right. "Well, you both tell everyrone you're twins. It's very believable, since you two look so alike. But Matthew's last name is Williams–his mother's. And he's three days older than you," I told him. "You told me that on your 19th birthday, when Kiku and I planned a party for the two of you."

I hadn't expected to feel hands on my face. I guess I loosened my grip in Alfred during my little spiel. He lifted my face to look at him, thumbs brushing tears away. His eyes searched mine, looking for something.

"…Could it really be…?" I nodded vigorously, pleading silently. Alfred's face contorted with a mix of happiness and sadness, before pulling me into a hug. I felt him bury his face into my hair, and shivers racked through his body. He was crying again.

"Arthur… I'm so sorry I didn't believe you, I just didn't—I thought–"

"Shh, love, it's alright," I cooed. He pulled me in tighter, and I reached a hand up to pet his hair. "Perhaps we should get off of the floor and talk about this." Alfred simply nodded and stood, pulling me with him.

"…So let me get this straight," Alfred started. Again. "You're a demon. Like, one from literal Hell."

"Yup."

"A creature not of this world."

A nod.

"An unholy being."

"Yes."

"Servant of Satan, defier of–"

"Dear lord, _yes_ Alfred! Any more questions?" A tail wrapped around my leg in agitation.

Alfred was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His face was scrunched up as he tried to process everything. I opted for sitting cross-legged at the desk. We'd been sitting there for about an hour as I explained everything to him and answered questions. Alfred was a very bright man, he just…couldn't quite grasp the idea yet.

"Yeah…" he said after a bit of silence. I glared at him. If he asked the same goddamn question one more time–

"What's gonna happen now? To you, to me…to us?"

Oh. That was an important question wasn't it?

What _was_ going to happen? Of course I wanted to keep going like nothing had happened. I would spend my entire life with Alfred, were it possible. But…

"What do you want to happen?" I asked. I couldn't look at him.

Alfred was quiet. I held my breath and screwed my eyes shut, steeling myself for his answer.

He finally spoke. "Well, to be honest, I could really go for a Big Mac right now," Alfred joked. I guess he was trying to lighten the mood, but it just made me more nervous. He sighed. "But really, I just… I want to go back to the way things were. Just me and you, Artie." His gaze burned into the back of my head. "I don't want anymore lies. But that can't happen."

I sunk down into the seat. A tear rolled down my face. "I-I understand…"

The bed creaked, and there was the sound of footsteps coming my way. Alfred crouched down in front of me. A hand cupped my cheek. "Arthur," he said, making me meet his eyes. "I want to make this work." My eyes widened.

"R-Really…?" I asked. I couldn't believe it.

Alfred chuckled lightly. "Of course! I mean, yeah, this was quite the shock, and it'll probably take a while to get used to. But you're no different than you were yesterday. You're still the grumpy old Brit that I fell in love with," he said with a smile. "Just, y'know, with wings and shit."

My face hurt with how much I was smiling. I cried out in joy and wrapped my arms around Alfred's neck. "Oh, Alfred!" I laughed. He wrapped his arms around me tight.

I didn't let go until I heard a gasp and felt Alfred try to push you away. I held him out at arms length, concern etched in my face. Alfred was gasping for breath, holding his neck. I laughed self-consciously. "Sorry… I guess I'm just happy."

Alfred managed a smile and what I assumed was supposed to be a laugh.

"Alright, I think I'm good." Alfred flashed me one of his million-dollar smiles. "So…" He started, looking away. "Now that I know your secret, do I finally get to meet your family?" He asked hopefully.

I looked away nervously. "I don't know about that. My brothers can be a bit, um…rash, at times. Especially around humans."

"Aww…"

I kissed him softly. "Don't worry, love. Maybe I could get my mum up here one day, when my brothers are off doing better things."

That seemed to cheer him up somewhat. He grinned down at me happily, before breaking into a large yawn. I sighed. "Okay, I think that means it's time to go back to sleep. Go on, into bed you go."

Alfred's protests were ignored as I pushed him towards the bed. I managed to convince him that yes, he needs to sleep, and that no, we were not having make-up sex, how could he even be thinking about that at a time like that?

Alfred stared at me from under the blankets. Or, rather, stared behind me. "Hey, Arthur? How're ya gonna sleep with _those_ out?" He asked.

My wings fluttered behind me. I wasn't aware I was back in my original form. _I am just one big mess tonight, aren't I?_ I shook my head. Sorry Alfred, should I…?"

Alfred quickly shook his head. "No! You should stay like that. That way I can kinda get used to the whole "demon" thing better."

He was too good for me, really.

I climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up to his chest. Our fingers intertwined between us. Alfred brought me into a breathtaking kiss. "I love you so much, Artie," he murmured. I smiled.

"I love you too, Alfred."

I wrapped my wings around us, and we slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **A few days later**

 _"So tell me, mon ami, how did it go? Do not spare any details~"_

I rolled my eyes. "Calm down, you pervert. It wasn't anything special. I told him, he asked questions, we went to sleep. Not much else to it." No need to tell him all of the details.

Francis laughed on the other side of the phone. _"Is that so? Because a little birdie has told me otherwise…"_

I had to think about that for a moment. What did he mean? Alfred couldn't have told; I had sworn him to secrecy the morning after. There was no other way he could've known! Unless…

It clicked. "You bastard! You sent your stupid little bird thing to spy on us didn't you?!" More laughter on his end. "Damn you! Why did you even bother asking if you knew the answer?" I swore I was going to strangle him next I saw his stupid face.

 _"My apologies. I just wanted to see how you would react. I would say it was worth it."_

I growled at him. "How did you even know I'd tell him then?"

 _"Let's just say I had a feeling."_ I hummed disbelievingly. Francis sighed. _"_ _Alright, you got me. Gilbert noticed you're form starting to slip after your 5th drink. That's when we sent you two home. I used some of my magic to cover you until you reached your home, so you're welcome."_

"Whatever…"

Alfred wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.

"Hey, babe~ Who ya talkin' to?" Alfred greeted with a kiss to one of my horns. We had agreed that I would stay in my true form for a while as long as we were at home. And thank god for that; maintaining that disguise took a lot of power.

I scowled down at the phone. "Just a dumb Frenchman."

Alfred bounced on his heels. "Oooh, put it on speaker!" As much as I wanted to just hang up, I did as he asked. The American beamed. "Hiya, Francy-Pants! Whatcha up to?"

Francis chuckled lightly on his end. _"Oh, nothing, Alfred. Arthur and I were just talking about your little "surprise" the other day."_

Alfred gave me a confused look. I pointed to my hair and horns, but that only confused him more. "You mean…he knows?" He whispered.

 _"I should think so. We are talking about Arthur's, ah, "unholyness", non?"_ I could practically hear the smile on his face.

Alfred looked hurt. "You mean he got to know before me?" He pouted. I sighed and pecked his cheek.

"Well, yes. I hadn't lied about being childhood friends with Francis."

"...You mean…?"

 _"Yes, my dear Amérique! I, too, am a devil."_

Alfred's jaw dropped. "Whaaat? Seriously?" I nodded. "What the hell?! Don't tell me Gil and Toni are demons, too!"

I sniggered. "Nope." Alfred sigh in relief. He took a sip of the water he was holding. "Actually, they're guardian angels." And there goes the water, all over the floor. It was like one of those sitcoms Alfred loved so much.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" The look on his face was priceless; I couldn't help bursting into laughter. Alfred shot me a glare.

 _"Oui, it is true. Toni is guarding the little Italian, Lovino, while Gilbert has your dear brother."_

Alfred clutched his head. "This is way too much information for one week. I'm gonna go lie down," he muttered, heading to the bedroom.

I smiled fondly at his retreating form. Francis was still snickering. I turned the phone off speaker and brought it back to my ear.

"I hate to admit it, frog face, but you were right," I said shyly. "Alfred really is an amazing man."

* * *

A/N: _Rosier_ is pretty much the demon of "tainted love." He actually tempts men away from "purity" and "chastity" and stuff, according to Wikipedia. It's also French for "rose tree".


End file.
